


Opened Hand of Crimson Petals

by cutiecannibal



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blood, Cutting, M/M, Self Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 17:51:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2238021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cutiecannibal/pseuds/cutiecannibal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yo okay will has self harm issues and goes to Hannibal for therapy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Opened Hand of Crimson Petals

Sometimes Will would hurt himself in his dreams. He would scratch at his body and wake up to a bloody bed with no recollection of what he had done. He had told his therapist, Dr. Lecter, about this once and he just said it was a way of relieving stress, that it was just a sort of disorder, though Will had no recollection of the name.

He had grown out of it within a few months and it never persisted again. And that was the end of it. He just supposed he was never stressed to that point again. But lately he had been in a bit of a stressful mood. The murders were beginning to take a hold on him, even though he wouldn't admit it, and he was beginning to revert back to how he had been. Fearful of sleeping, deranged hallucinations, accidental happenings. And now, he had no way to take out his frustrations without harming others. So he began to hurt himself to relieve it. Cutting his arm with blades, knives, even his own fingernails. The pain was just enough to rid him of his stress at the moment. It was something to feel when the blade slipped into his skin and sliced it down, the warm liquid oozing down his arm. Sometimes it went quickly, sometimes very slowly. He would watch until it began to drip down into a puddle. Then he would clean quickly, bandaging his arm and scrubbing up his own blood. Usually it stained, but that wasn't a problem. No one would question a darker stain on an already black floor. And he didn't have to hurt anyone else. He could self harm as much as he wanted. It would give him his feelings of relief and it wouldn't hurt anyone else in return. Everything was fine.

Until he received a phone call one day.

"Will. You haven't been to my office in at least a month. I know I really have no say in the matter, but I believe it would be a good idea to come sometime today and talk with me."

And he had agreed.

He had brought his sinful little box, full of many different sizes of knives and an arrangement of sharp things he had cut with and disinfected. He would need to tell Dr. Lecter about this, he would just tell him it was normal and get on with it. It was fine.

But once he sat down with the little box on his lap and began squirming Dr. Lecter had become curious.

"Will?" he asked as he sat down in a chair in front of him.

"Dr. Lecter. I have been slicing my skin open to relieve my stress." he said bravely as he clutched the box tighter.

"I see. And how do you feel about what you have been doing?" he questioned as he sat back, making the leather seat squeak.

"I, I feel like it relieves my feelings and doesn't hurt any innocent people in the process." he looked away from the piercing gaze and down at the box.

"But you know it's not right." Dr. Lecter concluded.

"No." he spat angrily, "I don't see how it's not right if I'm just harming myself."

"That's just it Will. You're harming yourself." he sighed, "It's not good because you can't keep running away from your problems and back to that box. It's a matter of do I harm, or do I mend." Hannibal was still looking at him with concern as he stood up and moved to give the box to him.

"Well, if I give you this then I believe it will alleviate some of my need to harm and let me mend-" he cut off as the sharper end of the box cut his hand.

He stared down at it in horror, dropping the box, and his fresh droplets of blood, onto the floor.

Hannibal was up in an instant, picking Will's hand up and licking his delicate palm. At this, Will stared in even more horror. Hannibal licked the blood clean and moved his teeth to open the wound up more.

Against his will, Will let out a hoarse cry as he pushed his palm closer until his fingers were dancing across Hannibal's cheek.

He heard him and quickly began ripping more and more, lapping his blood up and ripping at it again with his sharp teeth.

Will cried out everytime Hannibal bit into him and moaned when he licked his crimson hand clean. It brought him quickly to his knees as he held up his hand like a repentance().

Hannibal stopped almost as quickly as he started and pulled away, his mouth dripping with the blood he had not drunk.

"Dr. Lecter." Will said, almost frightened.

The vision melted and he was left standing in front of his psychiatrist's desk with the box halfway pushed over.

"It's okay Will. I'll keep the box safe here." He said as he grabbed and lifted it away from Will, who was still shaking off the last images of the feast.

"Will." Hannibal's voice jerked him from his recollections and he stared down at him, "Mend."

Will nodded at him, grabbed his jacket, and slowly walked out of the stuffy room and into his car.

As Will drove away, Hannibal couldn't help but wonder if the light stimulus had worked and if Will thought it was all a vision.


End file.
